Some Girls: 1980s Elsinby
by ThePennyTealeaf
Summary: Its the 1980s and in Elsinby, two new recruits are about to join the famous infirmary at St Aidan's Royal Free Hospital. Mandy Thwaite is a ditzy 21 year old joining as an assistant to Lizzie, whilst straight talking Kerry Wilshaw joins as a Student Nurse. Follow them as they come to terms with working in a country hospital with old faces and new faces!
1. How Not to Impress Your Boss: Mandy

Hello reader!

 _As this archive is full of original work based on the 1960s I thought I'd experiment by moving the setting on by twenty years. What does this mean for our favourite characters? Well, they've moved on too. This fanfic focuses on the perspectives of new recruits, Mandy Thwaite, Assitant Receptionist and Kerry Wilshaw, Student Nurse._

 _None of this would be possible without the inspiration from the talents of Keith Richardson, Ken Horn and the wonderful cast and crew of the original series._

 _So, please sit back and return to The Royal!_

Chapter One: How Not to Impress Your Boss.

 _MANDY:_

Starting a new job is never easy, I thought as I pulled on my coat, ready to face the day. I'd managed to beat the alarm clock before it woke me up and had the satisfaction of casually turning it off as I wound myself out of bed and stuffed my feet into my slippers. I wasn't usually a slippers kind of girl, but they'd been a last minute present from Dad some weeks before and I felt guilty not using them.

I grabbed some muesli from the cupboard and flicked on the TV, just as TV-Am was introduced, its cheery music lifting the weariness from my head. I didn't particularly like watching TV in the mornings but I knew I had to make an effort with my new job. I listened vaguely to Angela Rippon discussing the NHS with David Frost and the team but paid little attention to it. It wasn't my priority. Not to put too finer point on it, but I hadn't exactly 'left' my last job. Its what I told my Dad had happened but the reality was very different.

I shoved a mouthful of muesli into my mouth as I sat at the kitchen table, looking at my acceptance letter. "St Aidan's Royal Free Hospital" read the signature. I'd seen the hospital many times as Dad drove me back and forth from the high school but never really thought much of it. It was just a Victorian red-brick building with a green turret and big white windows. Elsinby was famous for its old fashioned-ness, people flocked for miles to see it, then promptly moved on to Whitby after realising there wasn't much here.

Anyway, on that morning I was determined to make the right impression, so I chose my least offensively coloured outfit from my wardrobe; a pale pink pussybow blouse and magenta skirt with my full shouldered denim jacket and gold clip belt, styled my hair as best as I could from its crazy curls and pulled on my boots. They looked a bit out of place but I was more concerned about getting to work than worrying about how they looked.

My stomach was in that horrible lurching mode, where every mouthful of food feels like it might just regurgitate without warning. I took a barley sugar from Dad's jar by the fridge hoping that it would soothe my stomach and for a while it did, until I looked at the clock and realised it was fifteen minutes slow. TV-Am disappeared from the screen as I frantically threw my lunch (ham sandwiches with a can of Tizer and an apple) into a carrier bag and dashed out the door, fiddling with my keys.

"Having trouble there, Mandy love?" Mrs Phelps, our dotty if well-meaning neighbour had seen me desperately trying to lock the door and came over to assist me. She was a funny looking lady in her early seventies and was always lecturing me about "More haste, less speed".

"Take your time, love, there's no rush!" She insisted.

"There's so much rush…I have to get to work!"

"Well, slow down, lass. They can wait for you."

"No they can't!" I twisted the key around in the lock. Success! I swung my leg over my scooter and started it.

"You be careful on that thing! I saw enough accidents in my day!" She warned, shaking her finger at me.

"I will, don't you worry, Mrs Phelps!"

I kicked the scooter encouragingly and she sprung to life, tearing off down the street. It gave me such a thrill to weave in and out of the traffic, as the cars sat stationary in a jumbled queue. No one quite understood how the road system in Elsinby worked. Drivers came from all directions and somehow managed to get to their destination without any accidents. The tourists and townies were the worst. They were very impatient and hated the slow pace of our seaside escape, refusing to move for trawler stock and locals.

I continued my journey at my own pace, keeping my eye on the time. Whatever happened, I was going to be at least three minutes late. My hair was whipped back by the wind and I hoped I looked at least a little bit attractive as I raced along the roads. I weaved around the corner by the Esplanade and heaved a sigh of relief as the hospital came into sight, glowing warmly in the sun.

There was a little yard for ambulances and several cars; a smart Mercedes, a Ford Consort and an VW Golf, where a plaque on the wall declared "DOCTORS ONLY". Assistant receptionists didn't qualify. I brought my scooter to a halt and swung myself back off. It was a lovely warm day with crisp blue skies and little tufts of cloud high over the sea.

My boots were tight on my feet from the pedals and I was relieved to be able to swap them for my new Etam shoes. They were cute and pink with a little polka dot bow. I couldn't resist them when I saw them in Etam's window. I used the seat to balance and quickly switched them over, storing my boots in the hidden compartment on the back of the scooter.

"I hope you're not intending to park that monstrosity there." A cold voice startled me and I almost fell off the seat. It came from a woman dressed in the most unflattering clothes I had ever seen. She looked like a teacher from a horror novel. All long face, pinched cheeks and currant like eyes.

"No, I'm just changing my shoes." I replied as placidly as I could.

"I see. There's a shed at the back for your…motorbike."

"It's a scooter. Thank you."

She wasn't impressed with my response. Her mouth tightened and she walked off toward the entrance. I felt like kicking myself. What if she was my boss? Great impression, Mandy, I thought.

Having found the shed and stored my scooter away safely, I headed into the hospital building. It was very different to how I'd imagined. Still very old in that cottage hospital fashion, with floral wallpaper, wooden panelled walls and a little coffee table surrounded by chairs in rows. To my right was the desk; obviously built 70 or so years before, it was tall and heavy in a dark shade of mahogany. A little bell was perched on the end with a paper sign above that read "Press Bell for Attention". So I did.

A little head of ashen blonde hair popped up and I immediately realised as she made a gesture to the phone that the woman was talking to someone.

"One moment, Dr Amrit" she murmured, rifling through the papers in front of her. "Can I help you love?" She looked at me directly.

"I'm the new assistant receptionist." I mouthed, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

"What? Sorry?" She mouthed back, creasing her brow.

"I'm the new assistant receptionist."

She shook her head and turned slightly toward the wall as though looking for something.

"Yes, Dr Amrit. I'll make sure I send that report over this afternoon. Who's your secretary? Mandie?"

It was natural to assume that she was talking to me, or so I thought.

"Yes?"

The woman waved her hand dismissively and grabbed at a piece of paper pinned to the board behind her. A look of relief spread across her face, which, considering her age-I guessed her to be in her forties-she looked very young. She had a girlish glow to her cheeks, aided by a spot of rouge, her eyes were deep blue and framed by a deeper blue eyeshadow and heavy mascara and the ashen blonde hair was styled in a Farrah Fawcett fashion, flicked around her face.

"Manti? Mundy? Oh…AMANDA. I hear you now. Sorry about that, Dr Amrit. Yes, you too, sir. Good afternoon." She put the receiver down and sighed deeply, "sorry about that. Where were we?"

"I was trying to say, I'm the new assistant receptionist." I explained, happy to be able to introduce myself at last.

"Of course you are!" She beamed, casting her eye quickly across the calendar of Elsinby scenes pinned to the wall. "Maddy, wasn't it?" She wound around the counter and greeted me properly with a handshake. Her wrists were decorated with bangles and two rings were bound to her second finger on her left hand.

"Mandy. Close enough." I smiled at her.

"I really should take more care when I'm writing things down," she chuckled, "nice to meet you Mandy."

"I hope I'm in the right place." I added.

"If that place is The Royal, then you're absolutely right. I'm Lizzie Turner." She confirmed. "Most people know me as Lizzie Hopkirk. That was me maiden name. Then I was Lizzie Kennoway, but you don't need to hear about all that." I was led into a little kitchen area with a set of cupboards and a shelf of 1960s crockery, the sort of stuff that was now being chucked out by the bucketload in favour of cheap Argos replacements. Lizzie had a set of Berylware laid out on a table, spoons and sugar pot neatly arranged. The table was attached to the wall, like the ones in old caravans and she set to making tea with a kettle, indicating for me to take a seat.

"This is nice." I commented, looking around at the old fashioned decoration.

"Yes, could do with a lick of paint, but that's not high on the hospital list." She told me, pouring tea into a green cup and saucer.

"I forgot to ask you, Mandy. Do you like tea or coffee?"

"Both." I took a sip of the tea. Lizzie was obviously a fan of sugar, as she'd made my tea with at least two spoonfuls.

"Me dad used to work here," she went on, "he was a porter for years, then it was me Uncle Jack and of course there was always Alun til he found his real-life Georgy Girl." She sighed at the memory. Whoever Alun was, he'd obviously been popular. I noted a photograph on the wall behind Lizzie of a chubby older man with a younger dark haired man and a younger Lizzie in the centre. Lizzie caught me looking and turned around, laughing."Yes, that's our Alun and my Uncle Jack. I probably have a picture of my dad somewhere. He were very popular." A sadness cast across her eyes and I thought it best not to pursue the conversation.

"You'll have to excuse me, Mandy. I do love a natter."

"Suits me." I replied, relieved that my new boss wasn't the stick thin woman I'd argued with in the yard, "someone needs to keep informed of hospital goings on. I'm cool with chatting. I like chatting too." I finished my tea and pulled my blouse straight.

"Well, I won't pretend this job is easy. It isn't, but I hope you'll stay. So," she clapped her hands, "this is the little kitchenette we've got here. There's a proper kitchen down the corridor, but that's for nurses, really. You can keep your packed lunch in the fridge here, or in the big fridge down the corridor. Just don't give your lunch to Steve or Mervin, they've a habit of eating the lot." She grinned and went back to the main desk, putting away little packets in drawers.

"How long have you been here?" I asked, looking at the photograph again. It had to be from the sixties judging by Lizzie's outfit.

"Almost twenty years now." Well that certainly made sense, I thought. "I wouldn't be anywhere else, let me tell you."

"No?"

"No, no chance. Look at me now, eh? Employing me own staff. Used to be just little me, a brew and the typewriter! Now look," she gestured vaguely at two big crates that blocked one of the cupboards. They were labelled as RAMP, whatever that meant. "You'll have to show me how to use these newfangled commuters."

They had computers! I wasn't expecting that. I'd spent some time using them at the office and then again briefly at Ashfordly, but I wasn't sure about admitting this to Lizzie who seemed really uncomfortable about having them.

"I can't make head nor tail of 'em. It's all a blur to me." She shook her head and her flicks bounced against her face. I wondered how she felt about the changing world? She'd made an effort to keep up with the fashions in her full shouldered purple blouse and navy skirt, far more conservative than the outfit she'd worn in the photograph of her younger self but didn't seem quite at ease about discussing the new technology.

"Well, I en't had much experience with 'em either. We'll just have to figure it out together." I told her, hoping that it would reassure her.

"Sounds good to me, Mandy." She finished putting the packets away and turned to face me, assuming a more businesslike manner. I quickly stood up and unbuttoned the cuffs on my blouse, indicating that I was ready too. "Right. Now, the rules. I expect they'll have been the same in your last job, but even so. We don't have a clock-in system here at the hospital, but I do expect you to be punctual. I will understand however if there are incidents involving burst tyres and such." She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. I was stunned. How did she know I had a scooter?

" I used to ride a scooter myself in the Sixties, I know the marks well." She pointed at my tights, where sure enough there was a smudge on the inside of my ankles.

"My dad didn't approve. I almost broke my leg once."

"Really?"

"Yes-and I didn't wear a crash helmet. I hope you do, Mandy."

I hadn't that morning. I usually did but it had been such a faff to get ready. Plus I was already late. I thought it better not to mention it to Lizzie, who despite her confession seemed more like an auntie than a boss.

I nodded a response and she was satisfied. "Good. So I'll expect you in by eight, kettle on, ready for a brew. No chewing gum in the office, the last girl we had used to chew it and stick it underneath my desk. Oh and if you want to smoke I'd prefer if you didn't do it in here. You can go outside the entrance or to the Quad. It's a lovely patch of ground in the centre of the building-used to be the convalescence garden."

I'd heard a lot about the convalescence garden. It was supposed to be the most relaxing place in Elsinby. Apparently all that could be heard was the sound of seagulls cooing and the waves rippling against the shore.

"I don't smoke."

"Good thing too, what with all these news reports now. They're saying that it's really bad for your health."

"I know, I've seen them too. I tried it once, just didn't like the smell. Put me right off." This was true, I hadn't told my Dad but my friend Karen had offered me a cigarette at school. It made me cough and heave for the next few minutes and I'd never wanted another.

"Well, that's a relief. I've never smoked either. There's no specific uniform here, we're not like those modern hospitals down South, but we do like you to look presentable. No jeans, you know?" Her blue eyes clocked my shoes. I personally thought that they were okay but by the look on her face I could tell she wasn't fond of them. "You sure you're going to be comfortable running around in those all day?"

"yeah, I tried them on in Etam, broke them in over the weekend. I'll be fine." I insisted but even as I said so I felt a pinch on my big toe. Nice one, Mandy.

"I've got a spare pair of flats in the cupboard, just in case." She tapped one of the smaller cupboards and then gestured at the phone. "Now, if the phone rings, answer it brightly with "hello, The Royal, how may I help you?" There's a direct line to all our doctors." A row of photographs was set up over the cupboards with the doctors' name underneath each one. "So, we've got five doctors here, on call, two at night. Dr Anderson, Dr Purdi, Dr Williams, Dr Menzie and Dr Ormerod."

Dr Anderson was what my dad called a scruff, Dr Purdi was smartly dressed, Dr Williams! My stomach lurched, she had been the woman in the car park, the sour faced pin thin stuff of nightmares; I couldn't believe she was a doctor! Dr Menzie was apparently based off site, according to Lizzie and only visited when the hospital was overly busy. The last photograph was of a fairly young doctor, in his late twenties early thirties who had dark chestnut coloured hair and the most captivating big green eyes. I was stunned. He looked like something out of Smash Hits!

"His dad used to work here." Lizzie continued, she seemed to be as smitten as me, "very respected, he were. Nice to see his eldest son inherited his lovely personality."

"What was he like?" They say you can tell a lot about a man by his father and I wasn't about to miss the opportunity to find out more about Dr Tom Ormerod.

"Smart, well spoken. Bit of a dish to tell you the truth, but don't tell anyone I said that." She blushed.

"His son looks like he's in the same mould." I grinned at her and she nodded.

"You could be right there, Mandy. But enough daydreaming about dishy doctors. Let's get you started." At last, I thought, she's going to start training me. Yet somehow I couldn't take my eyes off of Tom's picture. The photo had been taken by a professional, I decided. The light fell softly on the background and Tom had a slightly serious look, with just the hint of a smile. From what Lizzie had said I doubted whether his dad had been as serious. There was a tap on my arm and Lizzie brought me to the centre of the desk. "So I thought I'd start you off easy, Mandy, with a bit of filing! Pop your bag down there," she instructed and I kicked it under the desk. "Nicely done. If you could start filing these. We need to find a place for all these bits of paper. I can't believe the amount of paperwork they now want us to fill out. Like we haven't got one hundred and one other things to do? Still, least it keeps us running. Oh and watch the cabinet," She pointed at a huge old filing drawer stacked against the wall, "it eats fingers."

I wasn't sure whether she was joking or not so I laughed, albeit nervously and set to sorting the papers. She was right, there was no organisation in place, everything seemed to be shoved in folders that had no reference whatsoever. Despite this, Lizzie was cheery and didn't appear to mind that I was completely lost. "I'm gasping for a cuppa." She said after twenty minutes had passed, "want one?"

"Thanks." "Just help yourself when you want a cuppa. I keep this place well stocked with tea. At least, my husband does. He picks things up, here and there. You know."

"Yes, I do. My dad does the same." This was half true. When dad could be bothered he did help out on the trawlers and cargo boats that came into the harbour but he usually spent much of the day in the Richard III on the seafront, "making business contacts" he said.

"Birds of a feather and all that. We'll get on just fine, Mandy. I can feel it." She smiled again and poised the kettle over the cups. "how d'you like your brew?"

"Milky. Two sugars." I answered, too distracted by the paperwork. Some of it was as old as 1969!

"Two sugars? You'll rot those pearlies of yours." Lizzie's high pitched voice was filled with shock. "I don't normally. I just need the energy." I gabbled. I didn't need a sugar fix but I needed something to help me get through the mountains of paper in front of me.

"Late night last night?" Lizzie asked.

"No! No, nothing like that! I'm just not really a morning person, you know?"

She nodded. "I do know. You should have been here twenty years ago…" She was speaking in her whimsical voice again. I got the feeling she liked talking about the past, which suited me fine as I was keen to learn as much as possible.

She ran her fingers around her cup and saucer, looking down into it, "No lie-ins then. I was up by six, in by seven and the doctors were here on the dot every morning. Things have changed a lot. Now our doctors are on call all the time" She broke off as a doctor strode into the lobby. I recognised him as being Dr Purdi. "Good morning, Dr Purdi."

"Morning Lizzie! Do you have my patient notes?" he asked in a deep voice.

"Of course." Lizzie grabbed at a set of notes on the counter and flicked through them, "I got some of that Assam tea, you know. Really nice it is, oh and Roddy took me to the new tandoori on the High Street. Such a lovely place, amazing food. Very exotic!" I wasn't sure that Dr Purdi quite understood why Lizzie was telling him all of this but he took it all in good faith.

"Well, that's good to know, Lizzie. Thank you."

She handed him the notes.

"Shall I put your lights up?"

"Not just yet, Lizzie. Dr Ormerod in already, is he?" My hand hovered over a paper headed DHA, 1971.

"Course he is. Never stops, does he?"

Dr Ormerod was already in the building? My heart started to race and I rapped my chest. No, Mandy. You cannot have a crush on Dr Ormerod.

"He's not the only one! See you."

" Oh, I should introduce you!" Lizzie clasped my shoulders warmly. "This is Mandy, my new assistant. Mandy, this is Dr Purdi."

"Hi," I muttered nervously. My heart was still thumping from the news that Dr Ormerod was in the hospital.

"Nice to meet you, Mandy. Don't push her too hard, Lizzie!" He warned.

"You're joking! We've all got to start somewhere, haven't we?" She released my shoulders.

"Absolutely, nice to meet you, Mandy. Thanks for these; I'll be in my office." He walked off. He wasn't bad-looking either.

"Do you live on tea?" I asked as she handed a cup to me.

"Pretty much. You need it in this place. Gets draughty, you know? How's the filing coming along?" She looked over my shoulder and nodded approvingly.

"I don't know why we keep half that stuff. It never comes in useful. In twenty years I've never seen one person open that cabinet over there." She gestured at what I was intending to call the cabinet of doom.

"The one that eats fingers?"

"No, the big one over here." She stood next to the biggest one of all which stood as a border between the kitchenette and the reception area. "Doctor's stuff, I'm sure."

Nevertheless it intrigued me. I'd loved mystery books in my childhood.

"Can I have a look? I'm not scared of a filing cabinet."

Lizzie shrugged genially. "Go ahead. Keys are in the little box by the counter."

I took the keys from the box, they were marked "BIG CUPBOARD, STATIONERY CUPBOARD, DOCTORS SUPPLIES AND CABINET 1". I turned the keys around and slotted the key for Cabinet 1 into the lock, twisting it open. The cabinet drawer rolled out, producing a lot of dust and I waved it away, peering in at the contents, which consisted of mainly old newspaper articles. I spotted a familiar face on the first one and then realised it was actually Tom's father, the man Lizzie had referred to.

"Says here Dr Ormerod saved four children from a house fire 'going above and beyond the line of duty' and a train crash involving Dr Nick Burnett and Nurse Marian McKaig?"

"Oh, I remember that," Lizzie recalled, "we had a house full that day. You've never seen so many casualties. I remember we had to call up Ashfordly General for extra beds!" She looked at the article, "oh yes, that were terrible that crash. There were a married couple. Thankfully they both survived and Mr Carnegie, he were the administrator, he treated them to a night in the private suites."

"That was generous," I said, "there's a lot here about Dr Ormerod, isn't there? This one says about a tragic cliff accident." I showed her the clipping. Her eyes dulled slightly and she lowered her voice.

"Best not to mention that in front of our Matron. It was her sister."

"Right. I'll bear that in mind." I turned back to the cabinet, reeling off more and more articles about the infamous Dr Ormerod. "Blimey, he was quite a hero, weren't he?"

"I suppose you could say that, yes. He were very brave. He had a lot happen to him but he just kept on going. Nothing stopped him." She took another sip of tea, but her solemn expression remained.

"You'll probably see them around. They often pop in." She added, her tone brightening.

"They pop in? To see the hospital? Why?" I couldn't understand why it would be such an attraction.

"They're part of the fabric now. You ask anyone about Dr Weatherill and they'll all say the same. She's got the premature baby unit named after her."

"So she's…"

"Dr Ormerod's wife, yes." Lizzie confirmed, "and she's a patron for the hospital. Honestly, I don't know how she does it."


	2. Rush Hour: Mandy and Kerry

KERRY:

 _I knew how important it was to get up early that morning, but once again my alarm failed to wake me. As a result, I ended up stumbling out of the house, buttons half done, tights all crooked, hat askew. I didn't even notice the bag I'd left on the telephone table until I heard a familiar voice calling after me. Aunt Olive would never have let me go without a lunch. I was halfway across the village green, just squinting at the bus in the distance. I stopped and saw Aunt Olive rushing toward me, arm outstretched. It then turned into a Chariots of Fire moment, with me sprinting back and grabbing the bag._

 _"KERRY! Kerry love! You forgot your…"_

 _"Thanks Aunt Olive!" I garbled, rotating around and dashing toward the bus stop._

 _"You be careful, now. I know what those townies can be like." I heard her words as wisps on the wind._

 _"I've got to get to work. See ya!" My own words were wasted as I saw the bus stop at the sign and promptly drive away. Buses were a rarity in Saxton. They came every half hour, which would be too late for me. I had a choice whether to walk two miles to Ayton or stick with a half hour recoup in Saxton. Knowing that it was likely that all the old people in Saxton would be out and about within the next few minutes, I took the alternative._

 _I ran all the way to Ayton. It was a slog, especially up the hill, but I got there. Ayton was already awake, with people milling around outside the village pub, The Jolly Sailors and Christie was unravelling the blinds from the Post Office window._

 _"Ay up, Kerry lass!" She shouted, "how's your Auntie?"_

 _"She's good!" I gestured to the bus stop. Ayton had a direct bus service straight to Elsinby that didn't involve stopping at any of the neighbouring towns._

 _Lucky for me, the bus came along barely minutes after I arrived and I changed out of my tights into a fresh pair as we wove through country lanes. Whitby stretched out on the left hand side in all its beauty, little sharp roofs reflecting the light from the sun above. I wasn't great with imaginary things but even In couldn't help but feel inspired by Whitby's quaint scene._

 _The bus stopped directly opposite the Royal and I jumped off, waving at the driver as I dashed across the road. The clock tower clanged as I ran along Holbeck Road and I felt like Cinderella as I charged through the hospital lobby doors._

MANDY: 

An hour had passed and I'd managed to sort most of the paperwork to Lizzie's standards which seemed to consist of her filing them in colour order. We'd just agreed to have another brew when the telephone rang for the first time.

"Hello, The Royal?" Lizzie answered in a professional, upbeat voice, nudging me slightly to get to a notebook and pen set on the counter. "Man unconscious on Elsinby pier. Looks like he might have taken a bit of a tumble…we'll get a doctor out to you as soon as possible. North Pier. Right. Thank you, bye." She turned to me, "that was the coastguard, a man's been found unconscious on Elsinby North Pier. Looks like he's hit his head. Sounds nasty." She pulled a face and pressed a button on the wall.

"Anyway, Doctor'll be out in a moment." I couldn't see which button she'd pressed and was more concerned with making sure I followed the correct procedure but when I saw the doors open, my jaw dropped.

He looked even better than in his photograph. Tall, handsome, with those gorgeous wide eyes, he was like a demi-God. He approached the counter and placed his hand on the top. I resisted the temptation to grab it, still in a state of shock.

"What's the emergency, Lizzie?" he asked. His voice was more posh than I'd expected, like he'd been to private school, but it was also smooth and professional. He didn't smile, but was civil enough, ignoring me and addressing Lizzie directly.

"A man's been found unconscious on Elsinby North Pier, looks like he hit his head. Cut to the head but breathing's normal." Lizzie explained.

"I'll go in the ambulance, did they leave a name?" He spoke briskly.

"No, they're still trying to get his ID."

"Thank you Lizzie. I'll grab my bag." He told her and I heard the door open a few metres away. Lizzie saw my face and waved her hand in front of it. I'd obviously been gawping at him.

"Put your tongue back in Mandy."

"But….he's gorgeous!" I protested. "He's like a chunk of Tony Hadley right on a plate." By the look on Lizzie's face she wasn't familiar with Mr Gorgeous or his band.

"Is he the one from Special Ballet?" She asked, looking thoughtful.

"Spandau and yes, I've got a poster of him at home." I added. Just one of many that covered my bedroom wall.

"Either way, he's a busy doctor in an already overstretched hospital…" Lizzie reminded me and poured some more tea. "Here's your brew, Mandy, although I doubt it'll cool you down."

So I looked like some lovelorn teenager with a silly crush? I checked the mirror on the wall; my cheeks were red. Perfect. Lizzie merely laughed, looking at my filing.

"Why have you filed Mr O'Hara under 'H'?"

I would have thought that was obvious, surely the Hara took precedence over the O' part? I rolled my eyes.

"I'll be fine. You'll see." I assured her, but I don't think she was entirely convinced.

"Hmm, do you want to deliver these to the ward sister? This one is for Milner, this one for Fawcett and this one for Carnegie Ward, that's over the other side of the hospital." She placed them into my hand.

"Yes, okay." Little did I know but the wards in The Royal were quite spaced out, with one on each wing. Trouble was, Lizzie hadn't told me which one belonged to which so as I walked around the hospital I had no idea where I was going. I managed to find Milner and Fawcett without any trouble, but Carnegie Ward was virtually invisible. I noticed as I walked through the corridors upstairs that there were portraits of a lot of people that I didn't recognise. Carnegie Ward was at the far end and outside there was a portrait of a stern looking man with dark hair sitting behind a desk. Underneath it read "Mr Adam Carnegie" and the sign next to it read: "This Ward is dedicated to Mr Adam Carnegie, Hospital Administrator 1964-1967, who built a hospital for the future."

I tapped politely on the door of the ward, which was fairly empty; only two patients were in admittance. A nurse came to the door.

"Hello, can I help you?" She asked.

"Yes, I've got the notes for the Ward Sister?"

"That'll be Sister Judy. I'll give them to her. I'm Staff Nurse Nicola Lewis. You must be new."

"Yeah, I'm Mandy Thwaite, Assistant Receptionist." I explained. Nicola shook my hand and took the papers.

"Right, well, welcome, its very busy here. If you need to deliver patient notes its best to do it before the patients get into the wards."

"I'll bear that in mind. Thanks." I wasn't sure how to respond to her. She had a slight hostility to her, something I couldn't decipher. Was it bitterness or just plain rudeness? I used the spare time to look at Carnegie's portrait properly. He was a handsome man, sort of distinguished is what my Granny would have called him. He had dark brown eyes and a strong nose. I imagined that he would have been quite a ladies man. Probably with a flash car.

I hurried back to reception, my feet were in agony from my pinching shoes.

"Blimey, this place is a maze!" I heaved a sigh as I collapsed into a chair at Lizzie's kitchenette table.

"I told you, it wouldn't be comfortable in those shoes!" She reminded me in a very motherly voice, shaking her finger.

"It's not the shoes! It's the stairs!" I pulled off my offending shoes. Lizzie opened the cupboard and handed me the pair of flats she'd stored for emergencies.

"The stairs?" She repeated, bewildered.

"Yeah, I mean, they're bloody steep, en't they?" I cringed as the left shoe scuffed my heel, leaving a blister.

"Can't say I noticed." Lizzie shrugged.

"I'll make us a brew. Looking at this, you come from Whitby?"

Not Whitby exactly, but I wasn't going to put Diston-on-Sea on my CV. It was in the middle of nowhere. So I used my dad's address, 19, Princess Street, Elsinby, instead.

"Yes, Dull-on-Dishwater." I answered.

"I'm sure its not that bad." She replied reasonably.

"Believe me, Elsinby's Las Vegas compared with Whitby." That at least was true. Diston on Sea was slap bang in the middle between Elsinby, Scarborough and Whitby. It had a population of about seventy and most of them were retirement age. It had once helped to serve the harbours and fisheries around it, but now the trade had dried up. Even my dad, who was devoted to the work there, had downed his tools and settled for 'semi retirement' in Elsinby. " "Mustn't have taken you long to get here, then." Lizzie continued.

"No distance at all." My shoulders tensed, I knew what was coming next and I wasn't sure I was ready to answer her.

"So where did you work before?" the dreaded question had been asked and I couldn't ignore it.

"York; I was working in a bar there." I bluffed. "I hated it. Then...I moved into secretarial work at the big new offices in Scarborough. I didn't like it there either. This sounded perfect when I saw it advertised in the Gazette."

" Well, you've certainly got the right attitude, I'll say that much. Its hard work, but there's lots of opportunity for promotion. I certainly can't go on forever. I've been doing this job twenty five years, now. I've seen all sorts." That dreamy look had crossed her face again, revelling in nostalgia for the old days.

"Really?"

"Oh yes. I've seen doctors fall in love, marry, have kids, their kids grown up, administrators come and go, try and shut us down, open us up again, add new wings to the hospital…there's never a dull moment here." She tapped the cabinet I'd opened earlier.

"You've done very well so far Mandy. I think we'll keep with the basics. Filing, answering the phone, that sort of thing. Just until you're a bit more confident and not distracted by a certain doctor?"

I couldn't deny that I found Tom Ormerod attractive, but there weren't many to choose from in Elsinby. The guys I'd gone to school with had either left the town or married off with their sweethearts. I'd had a few teenage crushes but there was something intriguing about Tom Ormerod. His photo showed that he was trying too hard to force a smile, his eyes were too bright and he seemed completely immersed in his work.

"You'll have to show me the computer things." Lizzie suggested.

"I think I can manage that. It'll be so much easier when we get the computer up and running." I agreed, standing up in the flat shoes. She was right, they were far more comfortable but not as pretty.

"Really?"

"Oh yes! Its the future of the office." I was willing to champion the computers, they'd made things so much easier to keep track of at Ashfordly.

"If you say so, love." Lizzie patted my shoulder supportively just as a young nurse burst through the doors.

"Eh eh eh! Where d'you think you're going?" Lizzie reprimanded, motioning for her to stop.

"Sorry, en't got time to stop! I'm late!" She gabbled. Her hat was askew and she looked as though she'd been running for ages.

"What's your name? You can't go through without registering!" Lizzie demanded, pointing at a register book.

"Sorry, no time!" She was gone within a few seconds and I watched her duck into the kitchen Lizzie had pointed out on my arrival.

"Flaming cheek!" Lizzie was quite exasperated. Things like that obviously didn't happen much.

"Did Dr Ormerod get to his emergency call okay?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm sure he did. We'll hear from him soon. I'll let you answer the phone, it'll be good practice." She went on, "must be a nasty accident."

"Hmm," I murmured in reply, imagining Tom racing to the scene with his doctor's bag like a hero in a film.

"By the way, Mandy," Lizzie interrupted my daydreams, "I hope you're okay with blood, the last girl had to take ginger tablets all day."

Ginger tablets? She obviously had a problem with blood. I'd read about it in one of the magazines when I was at Ashfordly and couldn't believe that anyone would take a job at a hospital knowing that they were sick at the sight of blood.

"How many assistants have you had?" I asked Lizzie, hoping that she would excuse my curiosity.

She sighed before answering, "You'll be the third. It's not easy, as I said before. You put the work in, and you'll be rewarded." She picked up another set of notes.

"Could you take these to Fawcett, please?"

Equipped with my replacement shoes I made my way upstairs to Fawcett, keeping my head down as I passed Matron's office. To tell you the truth I was a bit scared of meeting Matron. I'd read that she had a fearsome reputation and that many of the nurses who had trained with her were now at Ashfordly. When I arrived at Fawcett Ward the nurses were doing obs. I knew enough not to disturb them but at the same time I had a task to complete. I approached the friendliest looking nurse and cleared my throat. "Oh, can I help you?" The nurse asked and I realised that she was a Sister on the ward.

"Got these notes for you. Mr…Mr…" I looked at the notes again. Lizzie's writing was little more than a scribble. "Mr Ackley? Oh no, sorry, MRS ATTERLEY."

"That would be correct. I'll take those."

"Oh, right. Um…thanks." I trotted off back downstairs just as the nurse from the lobby came charging along the corridor and dived back into the kitchen.


	3. Muddy Shoes and First Day Blues: Kerry

KERRY:

 _Late! Late! Late! I was just like Alice in Wonderland at the tea party, except with some idea of what I was meant to be doing. The Kitchen was the only place I could think of that would allow me to get the muck off my shoes that I'd gained running across the village green.: "Oh…what the heck?" I murmured to myself, scraping the mud and dirt off my shoe and running it under the tap. The filth fell into the sink and got stuck on the plughole. I tried desperately to push it down but it was like clay._

 _"_ _What on earth?" A sharp Irish voice cut through my thoughts. I turned around and stared at the Matron who was standing in the doorway, looking none too impressed with my presence. I held the shoe over the sink, completely unaware that I was soaked from the front. "Hi, I'm Kerry."_

 _"_ _I sincerely hope that's not your work shoe?" She widened her eyes at it._

 _"_ _Um, yes it is. Sort of." I looked at it. It had seen better days than its current state. The laces were sopping wet and the actual shoe was full of water._

 _"_ _What are you doing in here?" She asked, changing the subject._

 _"_ _I was late. I'm meant to be starting here today."_

 _"_ _I can see that," she checked the little watch pinned to her apron, "you must be our new student nurse."_

 _"_ _Yes. I'm so sorry, I missed my bus. There's only one every half hour from our village. I didn't mean to break in but I had to do something about my shoe…took a shortcut across the Italian Gardens...got off bus…"_

 _"_ _I think it would be best if you go and get yourself cleaned up over at The Lodge, across the road and come back in your uniform, hands washed, properly, mind, ready to start afresh. I'd say its not a good impression to make on your first day, but I'm willing to give you another chance to prove yourself, Student Nurse…" She trailed off expectantly._

 _"_ _Wilshaw. Kerry Wilshaw." I told her, relieved that she wasn't angry._

 _"_ _Well, Student Nurse Wilshaw, ask Lizzie at reception for directions to the Lodge. Its just across the road." She instructed and I nodded gratefully._

 _"_ _Okay. I'll do that. Thanks a Million, um…"_

 _"_ _Matron." Snap, she confirmed her name. Just Matron._

 _"_ _Ah,sorry Matron. Thanks for giving me a chance, you know what its like, living in the country…um…sorry about all this."_

 _"_ _You can't clean your shoe like that, now Student Nurse. You'll have to leave it there so it can dry out. Goodness knows what you'll do until then. I suppose one of the other nurses might have a spare pair for you to borrow."_

 _"_ _I've got my trainers." I offered, reaching into my bag and pulling out my pair of Adidas trainers. They were plain as the uniform had listed._

 _"_ _I suppose they will have to do. Tomorrow I expect you to look presentable and ready to work on the ward, Student Nurse." She told me. I didn't need telling twice, I was just thankful that I hadn't been sacked on my first day._

 _"_ _Just mind yourself, now."_

 _"_ _I will do."_

 _With her permission, I left the kitchen and walked back to reception to get the directions to the Lodge._


	4. Where Have All the Good Men Gone?: Mandy

MANDY:

" Everything okay?" I greeted Lizzie. She was busy reading through a document she'd just typed.

"yes, almost. Mandy. I know you like our Dr Tom Ormerod but I'm not sure Mrs Atterley will be impressed to find that her dear old Eddie is now Dr Tom Ormerod." She chuckled. Had I really written that?

"Oops. Sorry. I got distracted." I apologised, downcast.

"Oh don't worry. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt today. Reminds me of the time I sent Tom's dad over to the wrong side of a lake. Gosh, he was angry with me. But I was only giving him the directions they'd given me. He apologised afterward, of course. You could always count on him to be a gentleman. What I'm trying to say is, I know its natural to make mistakes. But just be more careful in future, okay?" I definitely had a friend in Lizzie. She was the most humane boss I'd ever worked for. She really knew what it was like to be young and a bit silly.

"You're not angry?"

"I'm not angry." She assured me.

"I won't let you down, Lizzie. I promise." I was determined to make good of my promise to Mrs Phelps. Dotty as she was, she knew a thing or two about jobs.

"Want another brew?" She gestured to the kettle. I was beginning to think that it was a never ending stream of tea from morning til afternoon. Forget tea breaks. Lizzie seemed to thrive on drinking tea all the time.

"I'd love one." I agreed.

The doors were thrown open and I rushed to the counter, looking over at a woman who was clutching her stomach, squealing in pain. There was no sign of blood or injury, so I pressed the first button for the doctor on call.

" Somebody help me, please!" She let out another agonising scream. I tried to get her to sit down in a portable wheelchair but she refused, sliding down against the counter onto the floor, legs outstretched like a doll.

"Are you alright love?" Lizzie queried. The woman's face was bright red and sweaty.

" No, I can't bear this…I just can't!" She cried again and squeezed Lizzie's hand. If Lizzie felt pain, she didn't show it.

"OOHHHHHHHH!"

"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?" She rubbed the woman's hand.

"No, but I bloody feel like it!" She screamed. Lizzie was totally in control, she'd obviously seen situations like this hundreds of times before. She was perfectly cool and calm which helped the screaming woman.

"The doctor'll be here any minute. Just keep taking deep breaths. Deep breaths, that's it!"

"Whooo! Whooo!" the woman began to pant, gripping Lizzie's hand.

"Nice and easy, now, nice and easy." She spoke soothingly whilst I just watched her in amazement. Then the nurse who'd gatecrashed the hospital came running down the corridor.

"Here, I want a word with you!" She called to her, but the nurse was more interested in helping out with the woman.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't register at the desk. I had something else to do." She explained hurriedly, kneeling down next to the woman and Lizzie.

"You've got mud all over your shoe!" Lizzie exclaimed, pointing at the nurse's one shoe.

"Its not mud, but here, I can help." She reached into her bag and took out a brown paper bag.

"Help?" Lizzie stared at her.

"I'm a student nurse." She placed the brown bag over the woman's face.

"The doctor's coming, I don't think he'll need any help."

"Matron said to ask at reception for someone called Lizzie?"

"Oh yeah? What do you need to know?" Lizzie raised her eyebrows.

"The Lodge, where is it?"

" Across the road, round the corner." She gestured out of the doors.

"Thanks. Jesus, she's hyperventilating!"

It was here that I first met Dr Alex Anderson. I didn't know his name on first sight but I immediately warmed to him. He was the one I'd described as a scruff. He had rough tawny hair, a rogueish face and sparkling eyes. If Tom Ormerod was Tony Hadley, he was Billy Idol.

"You rang, Lizzie?" He asked in a mock-butler voice.

Lizzie waved at him from the floor, "Yes, Dr Anderson. This woman's just come in, severe abdominal pains."

"Okay, lets see what we have here?" He leant down and checked the woman's pulse. "Thank you, Nurse. Who gave her the paper bag?"

The nurse put up her hand. "I did." She admitted.

"Well done." His eyes twinkled at her. The woman began to stir, losing some of the redness to her cheeks. "That's it, you're calming down now. I'm Dr Anderson. Can you tell me your name?"

"Clarice Sullivan." Clarice. That was a posh name.

"Right, Clarice, I'm just going to press on your stomach, let me know where you feel the pain." He examined and prodded at various parts of her abdomen and sat back, considering.

"I think it could be appendicitis but I'll need to send you for a scan to be sure. Lizzie, she'll need a scan. Immediately." He added to Lizzie, who jumped to attention and grabbed the phone, talking quickly to the X-Ray department.

"Mandy, get Ms Sullivan's notes." I went to the cabinet and pulled out the S section, looking for Sullivan. It was easy enough to find.

"So, you must be our new recruit." Dr Anderson appeared on the other side of the counter. Clarice had been wheeled off in the chair to the X-Ray department.

"Me? Yes. I'm Mandy."

He smiled, top lip curling upwards.

"Well its good to meet you, Mandy. I'm Alex."

"Nice to meet you." It seemed too old fashioned to shake hands, so I just leaned forward a little more.

"Well, I suppose I should get back to work. By the way, who was that nurse?"

"Er...I don't know." I hated to admit it, but I hadn't paid much attention to her.

"Well, she must have been a nurse at this hospital. Find out for me, will you?" Oh. Of course. Doctors always chose their own kind over kid receptionists. My heart gave a thump and slotted back into place, strained by Alex's disinterest.

"Doctor! Doctor! There's something wrong!" I heard Clarice shriek and Alex popped his fingers.

"Sorry, duty calls." He hurried away to attend to his patient, leaving me in limbo.

"Alright there, Mandy?" Lizzie was at my size again.

"uh-huh." I replied grumpily. It was the first time I'd felt genuinely disappointed.

"The way you're going, we'll be seeing a wedding at the end of the season." She teased, but it was possibly the worst thing she could have said.

"What? No way. I'm not getting married!"

"Then don't tease them. Look at me, hmm? Married at twenty, divorced by twenty five, married again at thirty-two." She reeled this off without a care. I knew that divorce was quite rare in the 50s and 60s so Lizzie gained a bit more respect for her refusal to be tied down in a marriage she hated.

"He's not interested in me." I heard myself say. It sounded so pathetic.

"You don't think he fancies that nurse do you?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Well, lets face it, she's got more prospects than me. Proper career and all that." I sighed sadly.

"Eh, enough of that. You could have a proper career here." She rubbed my shoulders supportively.

"You really think so?"

"Of course I do. Anyway, I didn't expect to be working here for twenty years. I wouldn't change it for the world." I could believe that. It was all there in her eyes. She was truly devoted to her job.

" Really? What about your husband? What does he say?" I was eager to know more about Lizzie's life. She had such a wealth of knowledge and seemed so wise to me.

"He's a nice sort really. Salt of the earth, you know? Same age as me. We met when he was playing a gig at the club on the seafront back in 1971. I knew he was the right one from the start. He was up on stage, singing and he was looking at me. Just at me. That was it. I was swept off my feet. After the gig he came over to talk to me and we got on really well. About five months later we decided to get married, or rather he proposed to me on the pier. Really romantic, but that's Roddy." "Roddy?"

"Yeah, I know." She rolled her eyes, embarrassed.

"Roddy Turner? Sounds very starry." It sounded like a name you might hear on a revue board appearing with Marty Wilde or the old Dreamboat crews.

"His band were called Turner and the Wheelers. They were good enough, you know, for the time. Played a few songs for pirate radio but never got signed. I don't think Roddy minded. If he did, he's never told me. He does have a copy of the song they recorded live. Baby Doll, its called," she began to sing in a not altogether unpleasant voice. " _Baby Doll, oh my little baby doll, oh I love you so…can't let you go, ba ba ba."_

"Yeah….its good." Well, it was like most Sixties pop songs. I vowed to track it down when I got the chance. There was an old records store in Elsinby that specialised in rare music and I wondered if they had a copy of the young Roddy Turner's song. They were most likely to have it, despite what Lizzie had said about Roddy having a copy, I was almost certain that there were other copies that she didn't know about. I decided that I would find it and play it so that she could hear it and wallow in nostalgia.

For the meantime I decided to concentrate on keeping my job. I was enjoying the hustle and bustle of the hospital. By 12:00pm it was really busy and Lizzie suggested we have another cuppa whilst we worked. I helped mainly with escorting patients to the various consultant rooms, directing them to departments and taking care of the paperwork. There was lots to do, but Lizzie was quick to help me out.

As the pace slowed, Lizzie suggested that I take my lunch break. I found my lunchpack in the fridge and sat down at the table. It was pretty lonely to be honest. I stared at my sandwich for a few minutes and chucked it back in the lunchpack. I remembered Lizzie saying about the convalescence garden and it seemed as good a time as any to check it out, so I did.

I found the door into the garden and a strip that was like a conservatory attached to the building, there was also a fountain in the centre and a row of gorgeous stained glass windows on one side. It really was pretty and so relaxing. I claimed a bench and set out my lunchpack next to me, praying that the seagulls wouldn't interfere with it and swoop down and steal my lunch. Fortunately, they didn't, but I was bored. I tapped my shoes together and rapped out a rhythm on the ground, taking a slurp of Tizer from the can. The fizzy red liquid tickled my nose and made me cough violently, so much so that the next thing I knew, something was thumping my back.

I spluttered and heaved forward, struggling to breathe. I blinked with watery eyes, trying to focus.

"There now, you were choking," A friendly Irish voice told me and I craned my head to look. She was wearing a nun's habit and a thick grey dress with high collar. A little brooch in the shape of a cross glinted beside it and as my vision refocused I got a proper look at her face. Like her voice, she had a very friendly expression. Her face was oval, she had brown eyes and the merest fringe peeked out from her cap.

"Thanks."

"Oh, think nothing of it. I haven't seen you before, you must be new."

"Yes, I'm Lizzie's assistant."

A spark of recognition came to her eyes.

"Ah, Lizzie." She nodded, "I'm Matron here at St Aidan's." She looked around, "I can't stay long but I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I am, thanks." I replied. So this was the Matron that Lizzie had mentioned. The nun who had worked at the hospital for years. She didn't seem old at all, maybe in her late forties early fifties but nothing more than that. Despite her youthful looks, she appeared rather strained and tense as though hiding something. I couldn't imagine that a nun would have secrets but then again, the only nuns I'd ever seen were the singing kind in the Sound of Music. I decided against telling Matron this, she was probably sick of people making reference to it.

"Are you feeling better now?" She prompted.

"Yes, much." I replied. In truth I still felt sick, but I knew Matron had a tight schedule.

"Good." She stood up and patted my shoulder, "try not to rush your food or you might choke again."

"I'll bear that in mind. Thanks for helping me, I'm Mandy by the way."

"Well, welcome to The Royal, Mandy. I'm ever so sorry, but I must return to my duty."

Just like a nun. Always on duty. Still, at least she knew my name. I couldn't decide whether that was good or not. If my first morning was anything to go by, I was still very much a novice and a clumsy one at that.


End file.
